


Blue Haze

by chilly_flame



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-25
Updated: 2011-11-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:05:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chilly_flame/pseuds/chilly_flame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Andy stays after Paris, and accidentally brings one of Nate's foodie creations to work before he moves out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blue Haze

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to afro_dyte and shesgottaread , who allowed me to take this prompt and run with it. The end result is missing most of your hilarious details and one primary character (I caught on to them too late), so apologies in advance. Also thanks to my ever-excellent beta, Xander, who does an amazing job and always works fast.

Andy reached for the brown bag that held her lunch, consisting of an apple, a banana, and pb&j on wheat. She was anticipating some lean times ahead. Nate had come back a few months ago after his failed gig in Boston, and he’d expected Andy to take him in with open arms. She had, because she’d missed him, and she loved the idea of splitting the rent again. Of course, they had yet to properly split it since Nate wasn’t bringing in much cash, but at least he was trying.

 

To Andy’s chagrin, their initial happiness post-reunion hadn’t lasted. He’d gotten sloppier when it came to housekeeping, and she’d gotten more fastidious in his absence. Their hours didn’t mesh any better now than they had before, and he often complained about her heavy work schedule. At least not seeing each other much meant they didn’t fight as much either, which was small comfort. On top of that, he was smoking again, which drove her insane, and she was pretty sure he was toking up on a daily basis when she was at work. Not to say that she hadn’t enjoyed getting a little buzz back in college, but he needed to find a steady job, and god help him if he had to get drug tested.

 

A breakup was in the cards, and she was pretty sure Nate knew it too. So much for the dreams of marrying her college sweetheart after they both made it big (or at least medium-sized) in the city. That meant one income, again. Thus, peanut butter sandwiches eaten far away from the cafeteria, out of the line of sight of the clackers, and of course Miranda. Andy felt a little ashamed not to be able to afford better, but she could practically taste a promotion in her future if she could last just a little longer. Emily was gone already, transferred to the beauty department, and Andy had her eye on a coordinator position in editorial. In three months, she’d have her review, and she’d talk to Miranda.  Or try to, anyway.

 

But today, she would enjoy her sandwich, and hope that the extra crunchy peanut butter wouldn’t affect her ass too much. She couldn’t afford to go up a size when she was worrying about paying the rent. When she opened the lunch bag to add a napkin filched from the kitchen, she got a surprise: her pb&j was nowhere to be found. Instead, there was a pile of brownies in plastic wrap. Her eyes widened; she remembered grabbing the bag off the hall shelf as she’d left for work, believing that Nate had left it there so she wouldn’t forget. She’d even smiled on the subway, her spirits lifted by that small gesture.

 

Now, her smile vanished. Brownies did not a lunch make, even though they looked divine. She needed some protein to get through the day, which would likely not end until long past 7, and she hadn’t scheduled any extra time for a visit to the cafeteria. She eyed Irina, who sat with perfect posture at Andy’s old desk, waiting for someone to issue a command.

 

“Hey, I gotta run down to the cafeteria. Be right back.”

 

Irina nodded.

 

“Need a pee break?”

 

“No, I’m fine,” Irina said.

 

“Great. I ended up with brownies instead of my usual lunch today. If I thought anybody would eat them, I’d leave them in the kitchen, but they’d just go stale. You can take one if you like,” she said to Irina.

 

The girl, a size two on a bad day, shivered. “No thank you.”

 

“Oh well, your loss. They’re here if you change your mind.”

 

With that, Andy grabbed her purse and hoped she had enough cash to get something substantial.

 

\---

 

When she got back, Irina was MIA, and Andy had a familiar flash of fear that made her insides tangle up. But Miranda was at her desk, calm as ever. She didn’t glance at Andy once, nor did she offer up any explanation at the second assistant’s absence. Andy took in a silent breath of relief and sat down. The brown bag was closed up tightly where it sat on Andy’s desk, and curiously, Andy took a quick peek inside. The little pile was smaller than it had been; it looked like Irina had a sweet tooth after all. Andy laughed. Maybe she’d snag a brownie later if she could manage without Miranda knowing.

 

But before Andy even had a chance to crack open her walnut salad (which cost far more than its size might imply), Irina rushed in, hauling two bags from Chloé. “She sent me out before you got back,” Irina whispered, her brow coated with a fine sheen of sweat. “I guess you forgot to pick this stuff up?”

 

Andy glared at Irina. “I didn’t. There’s no appointment on the books to get anything from Chloé. Hannah’s not even there today—I just talked to her assistant on Monday.”

 

“Well, I went to the studio and picked up ten dresses for Miranda to look at. Nobody on their side blinked an eye, so I just figured you forgot.”

 

“Nope,” Andy said. “I don’t forget things like that.” Not where Miranda was concerned, anyway. Andy had trouble forgetting anything Miranda did these days. It was possible that Andy was letting Miranda invade her life a little too much, since the thought of spending more time at work instead of with Nate wasn’t the kind of tragedy it once had been. This was another reason it would be smart to move on to another desk at Runway. Getting caught staring in what might be construed as an unprofessional manner at her boss _by_ her boss wouldn’t necessarily end well.

 

“Whatever, sorry.” Irina scurried into Miranda’s office, and Andy shook her head. Instead of brooding, she opened an email that had just come in.

 

Ten seconds later, Irina was in front of Andy’s desk. “She wants you to show her the dresses.”

 

Andy frowned. “Huh?” she said. “I mean, pardon?”

 

“Here,” Irina said, holding out the bags. “She wants you to show her the dresses!” Irina hissed.

 

Andy’s eyes grew wide at this, but she got up and carried the bags into Miranda’s immaculate office. The place smelled of hyacinth, and Andy inhaled deeply as she crossed the threshold. “Hi. You wanted me to…” Andy trailed off.

 

Miranda was leaning back in her chair, with a rather odd smile on her face. Andy was pretty familiar with all of Miranda’s expressions, and she was certain she’d never seen this one before. “Hmm?” Miranda said, twirling her long, beaded necklace around her fingers.

 

“You wanted me to show you the dresses?”

 

“Oh, yes,” Miranda said slowly. “Please do.” She sighed out a sound that was pure pleasure. It made the hair on the back of Andy’s neck stand straight up. Miranda’s eyes slid shut. “Isn’t it a wonderful day?”

 

Andy stared, frozen, torn between utter confusion and blatant attraction. “Um, yes?”

 

Miranda’s head fell back against the chair and lolled to the left. “It is absolutely wonderful. I am famished, by the way. Would you please, please bring me some French toast from that place on Clinton? Cancel my Smith and Wollensky, I am sick _to death_ of steak. Mm, yes, French toast. And get something for yourself. We are going to eat in here today.”

 

Andy thought if she asked Miranda just _what the fuck_ was wrong with her, she might get fired. Then again, Miranda was in a damned fine mood. Maybe Andy should just say yes.

 

“Yes,” she said, and turned on her heel. A quick Googling gave Andy the result she wanted, and she bolted out of the office already dialing the restaurant. The subway ride was quick, and she was overjoyed when the server handed her the bags practically when she walked through the door.

 

“Tell Ms. Priestly we hope she enjoys it,” he said.

 

“Will do,” Andy said. The scent of maple syrup and fresh bread filled the air, making Andy’s stomach growl in anticipation. She thought she might have to fight to the death to defend her purchases, but the car was empty, and not long after she was in the elevator of Elias-Clarke. In the tiny compartment, three clackers glanced down at Andy’s bag, horrified.

 

“You’re not bringing that into Runway, are you?” one of them asked. Andy thought the woman’s name was Simone. She worked in legal, but she could have been a model, like the rest of them.

 

Andy shrugged.

 

“Don’t let Miranda catch you,” another one said. Andy didn’t recognize her, so she couldn’t be above manager level.

 

“You must be new,” Andy said. “Am I right?”

 

The woman’s eyes widened just enough to let Andy know she was correct. “Well,” the woman began.

 

“Don’t you worry, I won’t make anyone in the office eat carbs. This is for Miranda. And me, of course. We’re having a working lunch. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

 

Andy’s timing was impeccable. The elevator doors parted as three mouths opened in surprise, and Andy gave them a wave. She usually wasn’t so brash with other Runway employees, but she was feeling good today.

 

She strode through the white hallways at a fast clip, stopping by the kitchen to pick up plates and silverware. Back at the desk, she rolled her eyes when Irina was gone yet again. “What is up with that?” she whispered. But Miranda didn’t look upset, in any case. In fact, Miranda wasn’t even in her chair anymore. She was sprawled on the sofa across the room, the one hidden from view when looking through the clear glass partition. “Hi,” Andy said, and Miranda grinned. Hugely. Andy saw teeth, and Miranda’s nose wrinkled up in the most adorable way. Andy’s heart turned over, and she knew for sure now that her remaining affection for Nate was a lost cause.

 

“Marvelous,” Miranda breathed. “Close the door and spread everything out. I hope you got plenty.”

 

Miranda got up from the sofa and went to her computer as Andy unpacked the food and arranged it on paper plates. Soon the sounds of trumpet, bass and piano filled the room. Miranda made that sound again, the one that sent a shiver down Andy’s back. “Mm, Miles Davis. Don’t you just love Miles Davis?” Miranda crooned.

 

Andy nodded blankly. She was in an alternate universe. She’d gotten sucked up by space aliens, and they were probing her brain for her innermost fantasies. Not that she’d ever fantasized about eating French toast and listening to jazz with Miranda, but as things went, it wasn’t so bad.

 

Miranda plopped down on the floor in front of the pristine coffee table and immediately sliced into the brioche. She chewed slowly, her expression as orgasmic as any Andy had ever seen. “God, that is good,” she said, her mouth still full.

 

At that moment, Andy felt an idea zing through her brain, landing hard in the back of her skull. She knew it to be true instantly, and figured she’d better clean out her desk because she was about to get fired.

 

_Fuck Nate and his fucking stoner habits. Fuck!_

 

“Miranda, I wouldn’t normally ask you this, but did you possibly have one of the brownies I left on my desk before?”

 

Miranda was staring lovingly at the side of caramelized bananas on her plate. She poked at them tenderly. “Mm, yes. Two in fact.” She glanced up. “I don’t usually eat sweets, but the mood struck me today for some reason. I conveniently arranged for Irina to be absent while I had the first one, and then the second.” To Andy’s astonishment, Miranda leaned over the plate and sniffed the bananas. But before Andy could consider just how weird that was, Miranda said, “I take it they were pot brownies?”

 

Andy’s spine straightened, and all at once she had to pee. “It was an accident. Honestly, I had no idea—I never, ever—“

 

“Oh, stop. I’m not going to _die_ , for heaven’s sake. Why don’t you have one? It’s so boring to be stoned alone. Unless it doesn’t affect you well. I know some people get paranoid, but my god, I haven’t had a pot brownie since 1983 and I am going to enjoy the lift while it lasts.”

 

Blinking fast, Andy watched her, unable to move.

 

“I’m not going to fire you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I heard you talking earlier—I know it wasn’t your fault. I haven’t completely lost my mind. You keep this entire place running, and you must know by now I prefer your company to anyone else’s these days.” She stabbed one of the bananas and ate it.

 

Andy took one look at Miranda and stood up, rushing to grab the brown bag from her desk. She ripped at it furiously and scarfed down one of the bigger brownies. It tasted good, and the chocolate masked the marijuana that laced it.

 

Nate might be an ass, but he was still a great cook.

 

Andy sat down, and Miranda started to laugh. Then she laughed some more, pouring maple syrup on her plate. They looked at each other, and Andy smiled, reveling in this totally new side to Miranda Priestly. She put her chin in her hand and watched Miranda for a while, watched her devour the French toast and bananas like it was her very last meal. Ten minutes went by, then twenty as they sat together, and soon the seconds seem to stretch out beyond themselves, lasting longer and longer. Andy’s head began to feel heavy, and her smile was easy as it spread her mouth wide. She tipped her head back and fell into the buzz, remembering what it was like, feeling totally secure here with Miranda, stupidly happy with this woman who could make or break her in more ways than one. “Oh,” she said, “there it is.”

 

She met Miranda’s gaze once again, and it was almost like looking into a mirror. Suddenly she was certain that Miranda felt absolutely the same as she did, which was too much but not enough. But her lips weren’t ready to spill out the words, and she was so hungry that she dug in to the meal that had cooled but hadn’t lost an ounce of flavor. “Fuck, that’s good,” she said after her first bite.

 

“Mm,” Miranda replied. “You are beautiful, Andrea. Extraordinarily beautiful.”

 

Andy paused in her chewing, forgetting that she must look silly with her mouth full of lukewarm blueberry pancake. She swallowed, and the silence went on forever. Overwhelming pleasure overcame her and she grinned, wishing they could do this every day, get high and eat everything and ignore work and all the shit that happened all day long. “I like you better than anyone else in the world, Miranda,” Andy said, and she felt ridiculous, but it was so true, truer now than ever before and she wanted Miranda to know it, to believe it with all her heart.

 

At that, the smile Andy had seen earlier, the sexy one, returned. Miranda’s eyes were glassy, and briefly Andy thought that this feeling might not last, and that they’d go back to how things were before and forget that any of this happened.

 

“Your review is coming up soon,” Miranda said.

 

“Uh huh,” Andy said, still tearing into her food.

 

“I want to keep you near me, but not here. In editorial. I think you’ll be ready. I know you will be.”

 

“I know too,” Andy said. “I won’t let you down.” Her mouth began to water, because Miranda’s lips looked so utterly delectable that she found it almost impossible to resist climbing over the table between them, shoving the plates onto the floor and falling into Miranda’s arms.

 

Miranda licked her lips, and Andy couldn’t stop staring. “You’d better stay over there,” Miranda said. “Better stay away from me.”

 

Andy swallowed. “I’m trying.”

 

“Not for long, though,” Miranda sighed, leaning against the back of the sofa. “Not forever.”

 

Ignoring the throb between her legs, Andy did her best to let her passion simmer rather than build. “I can wait.” She didn’t _want_ to wait, but she wasn’t getting fired, and now she knew that there was something between them, even if it took being totally stoned to bring it to the surface.

 

They sat, and the minutes that seemed so long before now got even longer. Andy got to staring at the tiny second hand that ticked around the face of her watch, and it fascinated her. Maybe time travel really was possible, she thought. Maybe she could even go back if she wanted to. Shaking her head, she remembered that this was work, and there was a girl outside who’d better hold down the fort for a few hours while they baked in the afternoon sunshine. She got up and tried not to sway as she walked toward the door. A little paranoia made her voice clipped as she spoke.

 

“Irina,” she said, and Irina came to attention. “Listen, Miranda’s working on something really big that just came up. I’m going to rely on you to take all calls and handle anyone who tries to come in. We are _busy_ , okay?”

 

“Of course, Andy. Were the dresses okay?”

 

Andy had very little idea what Irina was talking about, but she nodded anyway. “They were great. Just reschedule everything going on up till at least 4. We’ll fit everything in tomorrow.”

 

“You’ve got it.” Irina nodded firmly, and Andy decided she mustn’t look that high since Irina didn’t appear suspicious. Thank god she had dark eyes. Miranda’s pupils were the size of saucers against the grey blue irises; all anyone would have to do is look at her to know she’d been indulging in something untoward that afternoon.

 

With a sigh of relief, Andy returned to her seat on the floor. Miranda hummed along with the music, and Andy longed to hold her hand.

 

“Will you put the Coltrane on next?” Miranda asked, voice sweet as honey.

 

“Sure, baby,” Andy purred. “I mean Miranda.”

 

Miranda laughed again, waking up all the nerves in Andy’s fingers and toes. “You just hold that thought.”

 

Andy put on some new tunes, and the sultry sax was perfectly suited to her mood. “I will,” Andy said. _I will hold that thought._


End file.
